


The After Party

by ImperialMajest



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 18:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMajest/pseuds/ImperialMajest
Summary: Peeta runs into Finnick while trying to escape the crowds at a party in the President's Mansion.
Relationships: Peeta Mellark/Finnick Odair
Comments: 2
Kudos: 130





	The After Party

The President’s Mansion was besieged with guests and positively glittering with adornments and all manner of decoration. Lights shown of every color, beautiful silks were draped from the walls and over the many-tiered tables, which were towering with dishes of every kind. After a long evening of gorging ourselves on every dish we could find, we had taken to the dance floor, before being interrupted by the new Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee. He twirled away with Katniss as I stepped away from the dance floor.  
The ballroom was simply bursting with people and I found myself pushed farther and farther from the center until I was nearly pressed up against a pilaster along the wall. I spotted a door not far from me, so I pressed towards it through the crowd. When I reached it, it was thankfully open and I slipped inside, the many guests were much too preoccupied with food and drink to notice.  
The room I escaped to was considerably smaller, though still immense by any standard but the ballroom’s, and was just as fine in its appointments. The biggest and best difference was how much quieter it was. In fact, I had thought I was completely alone until I heard the churning of ice in a glass. I followed the sound and found a figure sitting on a small settee in a far corner, swirling an etched glass of amber liquid. I took a few small steps towards him before I recognized the unrivaled beauty of Finnick Odair, a Victor, and a famous Victor at that, from District 4.  
“Well, well, well,” said Finnick. “What have we here?” His voice was almost salacious. “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Peeta Mallark? Our newest Victor? Our guest of honor?” Finnick smiled widely.  
“Finnick,” I said, giving him a curt nod.  
Finnick’s sea green eyes were glittering. He patted the cushion beside him, inviting me to sit. I hesitate for a moment, but then sat down carefully beside him. Finnick brought his glass to his lips and sipped at his drink slowly. I wondered what number drink he was nursing. Wondered if, like Haymitch, he tried to drown out the memories.  
“What’s that matter, party got you down?” he asked, perhaps genuinely interested as he continued to sip at his drink. “Wait, where’s the fiancée?”  
“She’s dancing,” I said.  
“But not with you?”  
“A Gamemaker butted in.” Finnick smiled darkly.  
“Yeah, they do that, don’t they?” he said, veiling the truth with his humor. “Well, you certainly clean up nice,” Finnick said, appraising me. “Aren’t you usually covered in flour, or something?”  
“Don’t make fun of me, what is this high school?”  
Finnick gulped at his drink.  
“I wasn’t making fun,” he said. It was difficult to read him beneath the sexy breathiness of his voice. I wished he’d quit it, but maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he lacked the ability not to flirt. “I like the flour,” he assured, “but I like this too.” One of Finnick’s hands brushed my shoulder and then tugged lightly on a lapel. “So why’d she say yes?”  
“Excuse me?” I said, thinking he could only mean the wedding.  
“Why’d she say yes to the Gamemaker? Surely the Girl on Fire can refuse a dance from anyone, even a sad, over-weight sadist?” Finnick clarifies, his hand now slipping down my chest, eventually coming to rest on my knee.  
“I suppose she could have. Though, that wouldn’t have been very polite, would it? Effie would never have forgiven her.”  
“Effie?” he asked.  
“Our Escort,” I explained.  
“Oh yes, the glittering pompadours that drag us to and fro.” I laughed at this. Finnick slipped his arm around my waist. I realized our sides were pressed rather closely together. “But still, I don’t think I would have done it if I were her.”  
“Done what? Danced with the Head Gamemaker?”  
“Given up a moment with you, of course,” he said silkily. It was then that his perfectly sculpted lips moved in for mine. I turned my head and they landed on my cheek.  
“What are you doing?” I asked, perplexed.  
“I was trying to kiss you,” he said, unabashed.  
“Why would you want to do that?”  
“Because you’re good, and kind. At least you seem to be. And I know you’re sexy as hell,” Finnick purred. I felt my cheeks growing very warm. Finnick was now resting his cheek against my shoulder, watching me.  
“I think I should go,” I say as I began to rise from my seat.  
“Wait, don’t!” Finnick almost begged, holding onto me more tightly. I turn and look him in the eye. They were beautifully green, and still twinkling. He didn’t look vain, or haughty at all in this moment, but almost sincere. I rested back against the settee, and I could feel his body relax beside me. There were several moments of silence. Finally Finnick said, “I’m sorry.”  
“You don’t need to be sorry,” I told him. He leans in again and this time I let him take my lips with his. They were soft, but firm, and fell pleasantly over mine. He tasted slightly salty, but not in any unpleasant way. I felt his tongue flick across my lips and I parted them slightly for him. One of his strong hands cupped the back of my head, while the arm snaked around me pulled me into him still more closely. It was warm, and soft, and pleasant, and … safe. He held me sturdily, and moved so gently.  
Finally we broke apart for a breath and I found myself nearly panting. Finnick made a small smile, but it wasn’t his arrogant one, dripping with self-satisfaction and sexy bravado. It was gentle, like his kisses, and warm like his embrace.  
“You alright there, Peeta? he asked with a small laugh.  
“Yeah,” I said. “You… You’re pretty good at that.” Finnick laughed.  
“I thought you weren’t half bad. But you probably have to go back to the party,” he said, though he didn’t release his hold of me. His face buried back into my shoulder and I could feel his soft lips nipping at my neck playfully. He felt so good. So wonderfully good. But of course he did. It was Finnick Odair. This is what he did best. But why did he want to do it with me?  
Finnick’s lips moved up my neck and he began nibbling on my ear before pausing. I could hear his steady breathing so clearly.  
“You deserve so much better than this life, Peeta. I can tell,” he whispered. I eyed him again, just to make sure he hadn’t slipped back into his mocking persona. But he seemed utterly genuine.  
“What do you mean?” I asked quietly. Finnick smiled, but this time it was almost rueful.  
“I mean, some of us, a lot of us, maybe we deserve it. Maybe it wasn’t such an accident that we came out of our arenas. But you, you’re better. Better than me, I know. You just don’t deserve to be a slave,” he said, his eyes darting down rather sadly.  
It was quiet for a moment.  
“We’re all slaves, Finnick,” I finally said. “Sure, I have to be a plaything for the Capitol, a plaything for the spoiled. But my death, my murder could have just as easily been that plaything. And if I wasn’t a play thing, I’d be back in 12 keeping my head down, and doing my part, however small, to supply them with coal, just as you would be supplying them fish, or pearls, or pleasant destinations.”  
I felt Finnick’s hands caressing me now, one on either side of my shoulders, the back of one occasionally flitting up to my face and running smoothly down my cheek.  
“You’re good. You see? So good. Good with words, good with people. You see everyone.”  
“We all want to be seen,” I said, not knowing what else to say to this.  
“We do,” Finnick said very seriously. “Seen, yeah. Seen and cared about.”  
Finnick was entangled with me again and his face was again pressed against my neck, peppering me with kisses. They felt very nice, but I didn’t know if this was wrong. Was this forsaking Katniss, to let him do this, to enjoy it? Were Katniss and I anything real? I wished it so much, I wasn’t sure if any small signs that we were was just me reading too much into it. Would it even matter to her if she did have some kind of feeling for me? Would she be jealous of something like this, when we were still there for each other, when I was still her support, and she still mine? And if she did care about such things, would she care that it was a man? Or did that make it worse?  
All of this swam through my head as Finnick continued to shower me with kisses and caresses, and I felt myself melting more and more into him. Sighing contentedly as he continued. Soon he tilted my head again and began kissing me properly on the mouth as before. I enjoyed it. The soft falls of his perfect lips were like crashing waves.  
Finally it was Finnick who broke away, though his expression looked almost as if he regretted it.  
“You need to get back to your party, little baker,” he chided playfully.  
“Do I?” I asked rather lazily, any conception of time seemed to have slipped away. It was so very comfortable here with Finnick, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave.  
“Yes, I think so. They’ll be wondering where you are, and you have a fiancée to look after,” Finnick reminded with a knowing look. He rose to his feet and pulled me up with him, his arms still draped around me as he led us to the door. He kissed me rather deeply, full on the mouth, before breaking free. “You made my night, little baker,” he said, his eyes glittering again with seduction.  
I swallowed hard.  
“Will… Will we, I mean, will I see you again?” I asked, terribly flustered. Finnick moved in very closely again and whispered “We better.” I could feel myself blush. “I think we should have a stag night before your wedding, wouldn’t that be fun?” he asked flashing a broad smile and giving me a provocative, mischievous wink. I could feel my pants grow tighter at the thought and was beginning to feel terribly hot around the collar. Finnick laughed boyishly.  
“Alright, little baker, time to go back. Katniss is in best hands with you.” Finnick stole another kiss and then one more on the cheek. “See you soon.”  
I could feel my face break into a smile as he gently pushed me out the door, back into the ballroom.


End file.
